


The soft taste of fear (leaves a bitterness)

by SheDrabbles_butitsalie_ (ShaShirRa)



Series: Balancing Acts [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula is a child that needs a good adult, Character Study, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Just heavily encouraged by someone not insane, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Physical Abuse, So really, The redemption no one asked for but that I need, This girl isn't the type that needs to be saved, and possibly her brother, because she can and will deny it, but don't tell anyone she does, she just needs an adult, then set you on fire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaShirRa/pseuds/SheDrabbles_butitsalie_
Summary: Azula has never understood normality -other people are just puzzle pieces that don't fit. Mother says 'I love you,' but her smile is all wrong. Father says 'You're my legacy,' and his eyes tell her she should run. Uncle drinks his tea and smiles, a quiet danger. (Lu Ten was never dangerous, except when he took Zuzu's attention.)And then there was her brother. Her Zuzu. He was the only one that made sense. The only one that made her make sense.
Relationships: Azula & Ozai (Avatar), Azula & Ursa (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Balancing Acts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536325
Comments: 133
Kudos: 862





	1. Growing up with dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Shortly after posting the last chapter of Spirits, I entered into finals week, got sick, and still had to go to work. I've been livin'. Before I continue spirits, I'll be finishing this off, so you guys can see everything from Azula's perspective!
> 
> Note: the updating for this will be _a lot_ like Spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to try and write the whole chapter in one go ... But I've been messing with a system that (while confusing) works.  
> Btw, the number of chapters to be written is only my rough estimate. It is likely to change.
> 
> Chapter Status: COMPLETE

She was born at sunrise, screaming at the dawn. Agni’s glancing eye watched her impassively. She screamed as they washed her, and as they swaddled her, up until her first feeding she _screamed_. Ursa hadn’t thought anything of it then, because _healthy_ new babies _should_ cry. She only thought about it after, when Iroh, barely returned from his most recent jaunt in the Earth Kingdom, sat down with her.

“Her lungs are almost as impressive as Zuko’s. You could hear her screams from my own rooms.” Her friend looked worried. Ursa blinked herself out of her daze long enough to really pay attention. “Did the doctors note anything wrong with her?”

At the shake of her head, he frowned lightly, reached out to the bundle cradled in Ursa’s arms. The first touch of his hand had the child made a gurgling, sleepy sound that could have been a _growl_. They both stared, stunned or bemused, she couldn’t tell, when there was the lightest patter of feet. She looked up in time to see Zuko, sleepy-eyed and hastily dressed, stumbling towards them excitedly.

(Ursa suddenly thought she might know. Now that she’d had something to eat and good company, she could piece together the reasons for the _screams_.)

“Bahb!” Her first baby exclaimed, bright golden eyes locked on his new sister. Ursa smiled at the near _dejected_ frown Iroh cast his Nephew.

(He was usually one of Zuko’s favorite people.)

“Mamma, Bahb shlep?” Zuko asked, almost quiet but not nearly quiet enough, and Ursa turned her full attention to carefully laying Azula in the crimson bassinet she’d been ignoring.

“Yes my dear, Azula is sleeping.” Zuko clumsily crawled closer to the little bundle regardless, and Iroh caught her attention.

“Azula?” The slight disbelief in his voice had Ursa gritting her teeth.

(She’d had a similar reaction. She’d wanted something better suited for a Princess, but Ozai had been … insistent. She’d caved because he looked at their second child with actual interest, and the small, small part of her that was trying to be a good wife had seen that as a _good thing_.)

“Ozai came to see us as soon as the healer would let him. _His choice_ -in honor of the Fire Lord.” Iroh nodded slowly, a series of familiar and complicated feelings flickering over his face. He ultimately pat her hand, and offered her some tea. They looked back to the children at the same time. What she found had her stunned.

Zuko and Azula were staring at each other. _Intent_ and _focused_ , one of Zuko’s small, chubby hands carefully soothing over Azula’s fine baby hairs. He was whispering something that sounded like nonsense to Ursa, but was clearly very important.

(This wasn’t what had Ursa stunned. Azula, for only being born less than a handful of hours, had shown a distinct dislike for being touched. She’d cried the whole way through the healer and his assistants cleaning her, had only started to settle once they’d swaddled her and then brought her to Ursa. Even then, she’d whimpered and fussed if Ursa stroked her head.)

Yet there Zuko was, stroking his soft little hands over his sister’s cheek and head, whispering what could only be very important secrets to her.

(Not secrets, really. They were promises. Promises for the kinds of fun they would have. Promises about keeping her safe. They weren’t spoken in any language that an adult could understand, but Agni heard the tone and knew the meaning. He felt the love and affection growing in this child’s mind and swore that what Zuko loved would _always_ be protected.)

* * *

She was three when she understood the concept of _fear_. She remembered it distinctly, because it taught her a very important thing. _Never let other people know what scares you_. Her father taught her this -and many other- lessons, but this one held distinction in her young mind, because it was the most _unnerving_. Like most of her father’s valuable life lessons, it started with a _smile_. She was playing a game with Zuzu, hiding from him in an empty, dark room while he looked. 

(In her mind, she'd traveled _a very long way_ to hide, so there was no way he was _ever_ finding her. In reality, she'd wandered into one of her father's sitting rooms -but it essentially meant the same thing. Zuko, even young, knew he should never go where his father might be. Father _hated_ unplanned interruptions.)

Azula was quietly content in the dark, hidden as she was under a scroll-cabinet just tall enough to squeeze under. To pass the time waiting for Zuzu to _give up_ , she was playing the counting game he'd taught her. Father unexpectedly entered the room, trailed by a pale looking scribe, and it was certainly a surprise. She was debating between staying hidden and crawling out to greet Father like she'd been taught to when he lit a single candle and settled down with his profile to her. The scribe settled on the other side of him and shakily pulled out a scroll and a set of brushes. 

(Azula didn't think he was coloring right. There wasn't enough light in the room to color by, and he one had one color of ink. Zuzu always said enough light for coloring was _important_. She thought he was probably right, since she always felt good warmth when she colored with him in the light.)

They said a lot of adult sounding things then, and the scribe wrote, and Father spoke. Azula didn't understand the words 'disappointed' or 'intended target' or 'unsatisfactory results,' but she did understand her Father's _tone_. It was calm but sharp, like one of Uncle's shiny knives. He used that tone a lot with Zuzu. 

(It _always_ came after Father tried to make him bend. Zuzu got quaky and panicked, and pale, then produced nothing but _smoke_ and _tiny sparks_. Azula liked the sparks, but she was careful not to say that, since Zuzu hated them.)

When they stopped and the scribe sealed the scroll, handing it over with dizzy-looking hands. Father took it gently, then smiled. It wasn't like Mother's nice smile, the one she gave when she was trying to find positive things to say. 

(Mother's smiles were becoming less frequent. Azula knew it had something to do with her and her _questions_ , but not _why_. It was hardly her fault that _feelings_ were so hard to understand.)

"You do, of course, remember that as my new royal scribe, there are certain expectations you must follow." Father said now, soft and low, like a slinking Lizard Cat. 

The scribe got even sicker looking, then nodded gravely. He formed the Formal Fire with shaking hands, and bowed deep over the table. Azula thought this scene looked familiar, and now she needed to understand what emotion was on the scribe's face. She felt like if she did, so many questions would be answered.

"I will carry your secrets to the grave, Majesty." The scribe said into the table. 

Father looked distinctly, Lizard Cat amused. There was a joke here somewhere, but she needed to understand the feeling before she could get it.

"Yes, you will," Father promised. The scribe managed to bow his way out of the room without dropping his brush and ink, and Father followed shortly after, his eyes sharply watching the corners of the room. 

(Father always knew when she and Zuzu were acting like Ferret Mice, but never where they actually were. This was because Father was a Lizard Cat. One day, Azula would be one too, and he would never know she was there.)

She waited a while after he'd left to wiggle out of her hiding place and then into the crawly tunnels she'd used to sneak into the room. She found Zuzu carefully looking through their toy box -she'd buried herself in it last time- and got temporarily distracted with sneaking up on him. 

(She liked it when he jumped. It was funny to see him hop in place, just like a Ferret Mouse.)

"Lala!" Zuzu laughed, and it was a sound that always made her feel warm inside. "You scared me again!" he chided softly, turning fully to her and frowning. She spoke before he could, because if he _distracted_ her now she'd forget her question, and this thought-road felt _important_.

"You 'splain feeling to me," she announced, because it was silly to _ask_.

Zuzu would always help her. Zuzu smiled at her in that way that was _annoying_ but _nice_.

(He liked that Lala spoke more now, and that she tried so hard to _pronounce_ things. She still got it wrong sometimes, and he knew it upset her when she did. She'd told him, in not so many words, that she understood _speaking_ and _meanings_ but her mouth kept _'b_ _etraying'_ her.) 

Instead of correcting her, he sat down with her instead, because talking about feelings always took a while, and he put on his serious face. Azula nodded at him gravely, then scrunched up her face in her 'thinking' expression, tiny hands playing absently with a shiny pebble she must have picked up from the gardens. 

"What feeling?" He asked, and Azula took a breath before she started. 

(She didn't get mad at him for _asking_. She knew when _Zuzu_ asked that question, he was asking her to _describe_ the feeling. Not like the adults. They asked her that question, and expected her to _know_ _the feelings name_.)

"Peoples feeling it are sick and ... dizzy? No, s'not right ..." here she paused, because she knew the _action_ , knew the _word_ in the back of her mind, but didn't. Instead, she held up a hand and willed it to shake. It trembled between them softly, and Zuzu's face went thoughtful.

"Shaky?" he offered slowly, and it sounded right, so Azula nodded before she dropped her hand. "Pale and shaky? Um ... do you think you can copy the face?" He asked, and Azula wondered why feelings had to be so complicated. She still nodded, but she crawled over to the play-room mirror. 

(Azula remembered very clearly the first time she'd seen this mirror. Mother had sat her down in front of it for something, and she'd seen herself for the first time. She hadn't liked it then, and she still wasn't sure she liked it _now_. )

Zuzu followed her, sitting with his legs folded up under him like Mother did, watching her intently.

(Maybe it was alright. Zuzu was sitting next to her in it anyway.)

She tried making the face several times, struggling to get it _right_ , and Zuzu asked her quiet questions the entire time. She isn't sure what finally draws her attention to the top corner of the mirror. Maybe a flash of color she wasn't expecting, maybe a feeling in the back of her mind. When she looks up, Father is standing there watching them. Zuzu stops mid-question, catches on to her shift in attention a little bit after it's shifted. 

(Zuzu always seems to know when he has her attention and doesn't. He's the only one that can tell. She'd find that frustrating if it wasn't also _nice_.)

His face goes a little pale, his eyes a little bright and _something_. She thinks she sees his hands tremble when he hurries to stand and bow to Father, the way Mother taught him. Azula sees Father's expression in the mirror. It's not exactly like the look he'd given the scribe, but it isn't the way she's seen other Father's look at their children. 

(She isn't sure what he talks to Zuko about, only that her brother has that _look_ the entire time. She only pays attention to the way his body shifts and moves, the small ways his face change as he answers Father. Father says something to her too, and when she looks, it's with the realization that she wasn't paying enough attention. Father frowns at her and tilts his head, but it's not the same frown _Mother_ gives her. Azula doesn't feel like talking to him right now anyway, so she turns around to make more faces in the mirror, trying to replicate the ones Zuzu has already taught her. There's something off about her _'happy'_ face, but she isn't sure what it is.)

When she'd sure that they're alone and Zuzu stops looking so sick, she turns to him and gives him her _'happy'_ face.

" _That_ feeling." He jumps like a Ferret Mouse, looks at her with wide eyes. "What feeling is the one you had with Father?"

Zuzu doesn't answer her for a little while. She's worried that maybe he won't, when he finally stirs and give her his 'sorry,' smile. It looks like the 'sad,' feeling he taught her a while ago.

"That was ' _fear_ ,' Lala."

(At the back of her mind, there is a fuzzy warmth that seeps into the room and caresses them both, comforting and there. It's familiar, but she's never felt it when she wasn't holding Zuzu's hand.)

Azula made sure to remember that word. She spent the next few weeks _playing_ with that word, figuring out everything that made Zuzu afraid, and then she played with it with other people. Father hadn't been aware that he was teaching her the value of 'fear' when he smiled at that scribe, but Azula thought, much later in life, he'd be proud to know she took that lesson to heart. 

(Zuzu was _less proud_ of this particular set of lessons, but it wasn't _her_ fault he was afraid of Salamander Crabs. She'd only been trying to help him see how _silly_ that fear was. She did regret the hair, but only a little bit, and only as much as she was _able_ to. The unnerving part of these lessons was always that she had yet to find anything that made _her_ afraid. Her father would call that a _strength_.)

* * *

Zuzu was six when she learned how to bend. She was four when she saw _real_ , _raw_ hurt in her brothers' eyes for the first time. He still wasn't able to do much more than puff _smoke_ and _sparks_ , but she could light full, bright _flames_. She hadn't realized how much she might hate him looking at her like that until he was _doing_ it. Something else flashed over his face a second later - _guilt_ , she thought, because she was much better at emotions now- and then he smiled at her in a purely _Zuzu_ way. He said her flames were _pretty_ , and that he was so _proud_ of her, and she knew it wasn't a lie, because he was _terrible_ at lying.

(She was trying to teach him how to lie better, but it wasn't working very well.)

Father smiled at her in a _real_ way, saying she was his pride and joy. Mother smiled and said all the right things, but she was gripping Zuzu's shoulders in a way that was _comforting_. Fire Sage Shiza smiled at her when they went into the royal temple to give Agni thanks for 'blessing' her with _'strong passion and glorious purpose.'_

(Azula wasn't sure she believed in Agni. Everyone talked about him, but the only one she saw making decisions was Grandfather. He certainly never went outside long enough to commune with Agni, nor did she ever see him give much thought to decisions. She may have only been four, but she had strong ideas about what their Fire Lord was and was not doing right.)

She ignored the curious tickle of sunlight on her face that seemed _amused_ and went about her day trying to forget that for a brief moment, she had hurt her brother for the first _real_ time. 

* * *

By the time she had _trained_ Zuzu to treat her like a _rival_ , Uncle Iroh had been at war laying siege to Ba Sing Se for _years_. Father started including her in meetings between him and several politicians, trying to teach her how the courts worked. She wasn't a fool in regards to the real _purpose_ of these lessons. She'd learned a long time ago that Father hated any positive interactions between her and Zuzu. He wanted there to be a clear and definitive wedge between her and Zuzu, so Azula had found a way to keep Father happy while still being around Zuzu. 

(She did this because she would _never_ forget his ninth Birthday, where she and Zuzu had been quietly joking about something a general had said, and Father had gotten mad and drug _Zuzu_ off to be 'reprimanded for disrespecting his elders.' She'd later found Mother nursing a palm-sized, _minor_ looking red-splotch on her brother's shoulder. Zuzu had looked _terrified_ , and Mother had looked _furious_ , and Azula had felt the first stirrings of something in her chest. It was a something that would stir more and grow, in later years. It hadn't been a burn, Azula experimented later. The most likely reason for the mark was a _superheated_ _palm_. Nothing that couldn't be treated quickly, and nothing that would leave a mark. Azula would remember that lesson.) 

She'd miscalculated though. She'd done too well, making him think they were rivals. When they got news of Lu Ten's death, and Uncles immediate retreat from the front lines, Father was ready with a _plan_. They walked into the throne room as a family, and Father ... Father had always wanted the throne, but the _levels_ of manipulation required for him to have a speech prepared, after only a day sitting on the news? There were hidden meanings there. Performing on cue was something Azula was good at now, but then Zuko tried to do the same.

(It ended badly. It always did -she kept telling him his footing was _off_ , but he never listened. The Dum Dum.)

The stunt he pulled in the throne room, with Grandfather, had her heart beating oddly in her chest. It was a struggle to keep her face impassive, to make sure her smile -the one Father liked, the one she'd copied from him then made her own- remained exactly where it was. That night, she used her and Zuzu's countless games of sneaking to slip her way through the palace halls, into the secret compartments in the audience room with the Fire Lord.

(Father said Grandfather wanted to speak to him alone. He'd been furious with Zuzu, but there was a light in his eyes that said he was _calculating_ something. Azula needed to know what was going on -exactly what was going on. Not her Father's version of the truth, but the _real_ truth.)

It was ... well, she wasn't sure what she was expecting from their meeting, but not her Grandfather's arbitrary decision that killing Zuzu was somehow the _correct thing to suggest._ She hadn't held a high opinion of some of Grandfather's military tactics, but now she held little regard for him _at all._

(Did he not know his own child? That kind of fly-away comment wasn't something you just _gave_ her Father! It was like giving him _permission!_ )

She isn't sure what possesses her to go straight to Zuzu's rooms. To wake him up and repeat everything she'd heard. For the first time ever, Zuzu doesn't understand her, and it's ridiculously _frustrating_ , because for once she isn't _lying_. She's telling the truth and he needs to be _careful_ , but he won't _listen_ -then Mother is there, and Azula realizes who she should have gone to from the beginning.

Mother does listen, for once -but she's always better to listen to things about Zuzu. Now, Azula finishes and watches the gears turning in Mother's mind, looking panicked and wild, and Azula gets impatient for the first time. 

"So?" She prompts, and Mother startles, looking at her like she forgot she was there. 

(Azula was used to the look. Mother had no idea how to respond to Azula most of the time, and Azula had given up trying to be normal fairly early on. She couldn't help the way her mind worked, and Zuzu had proven that people _could_ understand her, if they wanted to enough.)

"What are you going to _do_ about it?" She demanded now, already itching to go back to Zuzu's room. It was full night, and Zuzu's fires were already kind of pathetic, and her _Dum Dum_ of a brother wouldn't be able to fight for his life -if only because he was too _nice_. Mother looked like she didn't know what to say, then she got ... sad. She hadn't been expecting _that_.

"I'm going to go speak with your Father. _You_ are going to go back to your room." She said it softly, stroked a careful hand over Azula's cheek. 

(It left an itch under her skin, the direct contact. She still didn't like touch very much, but Mother gave it so rarely she made herself stand still.)

Mother looked like she wanted to say a hundred things, but ended up saying nothing. She slipped down the halls, and Azula went back to Zuzu's room, hiding in the shadows because crawling into his bed was something she hadn't done since she was five and not sure _what_ lived in the shadows -but was positive that something did- and she wasn't about to let anyone find out how much he still meant to her.

Much, much later that night, Mother came and whispered goodbye to him, spoke quick and quiet. She left in a hurry, cloak drawn up over her pretty hair and robes. Azula wasn't sure what was going on or why, but she did strain to listen to her mothers' light footsteps. Mother went into her room, was in there for a few minutes, before she hurried down the hall again. She never came back.

* * *

"You shouldn't do this, you know," Azula said it light, almost absent as she lightly twisted and twirled Zuzu's ceremonial mantle cloth. 

Her brother paused in tightening his Pheonix plume, his eyes flickering up to her and then back down. There was something _determined_ about the way he adjusted his hair, about the way he glared at the ground. 

"I _can_ do this." He said it like they'd been having this argument _all day_ -exasperated and snippy. 

Azula wanted to scream that he had no idea what he was doing. She wanted to set him on fire for being so stupid. She wanted to shove him to the ground and smack him until he really listened to her. He was so, stupidly determined to prove himself to Father, he wasn't listening. 

"That's not what I said." She snipped back, giving him the smile that had become her default.

A silence lapsed between them and he gripped the edge of his seat, knuckles going white, the limited amount of muscle he was able to build tensing under his skin. In a few years, and with more training, she might believe that her brother could fight and win an Agni Kai with an experienced bender. Her brother could certainly bend better now, but he was still _nothing_ compared to her. But in a few years? In a few years, she'd be willing to push him into the ring and laugh at him if he failed. But now?

Now, she was watching her brother try to prepare himself for something he _wasn't_ prepared for. Their Father wouldn't have looked quite so eager yesterday if this was going to be anything _simple_. He still insisted on donning the mantle, and she tossed it at him the same way she'd snatched it, in a blink of snappish irritation. She made her way to her seat without looking back, and without further comment. 

Uncle was already there -which made her angry, because this was partially _his fault_ \- and stupid Captain Zhao was sitting a few seats behind him. She hated Captain Zhao, but Father liked his ambition, and his willingness to do anything he asked. Azula had seen some of the man's mission reports, and she had to admit -he really _was_ willing to do anything to gain favor with the Fire Lord. His presence was _not_ a comfort, or perhaps that was the twisting in her gut, the _clenched_ feeling that refused to leave.

(The unease became apparent all too suddenly when Zuko's _opponent_ took his place as her brother was turning and kneeling. She made sure her smile stayed in place, because she should have _seen this_ , dammit. She should have realized what the _implications_ of challenging one of _his_ Generals would be, in _his_ war room. She should have done more than _warn_ Zuzu. _She should have drug him kicking and screaming away._ The sun felt a little hotter around her.)

Then-

Then her _Dum Dum_ of a brother was shaking his head, proclaiming in his soft-but-loud voice that he was a loyal son, that he would never _willfully_ harm Agni's chosen and-

Father was _burning him._ Azula _watched_ and absorbed his screams, and _smiled_.

 _Father was burning him._ (There was a searing warmth to Agni's falling light now.)

She memorized every instant, every small detail, every hitch in his breath. 

**_Father burned him and smiled._** (The Fires lit along the walls stuttered then went out, and she swore there were heat waves dancing in the air.)

Azula noted who smiled with him and added them to a shiny new list in her mind.

 ** _Father burned him and smiled, and his eyes gleamed with triumph._** (The evening was boiling now, Agni's rays seemed _furious_.)

Her brother, her _Dum Dum_ , her _Zuzu_ crumpled to the ground, and the falling Prince was like a broken dam. A rush of heat so intense, followed by _sudden_ _darkness_ , had the eerily silent audience and her Father looking up. Agni's light was covered so suddenly by heavy, furious clouds, the winds picking up sharply burned along her skin. Uncle moved next to her, and she realized he'd been like a statue beside her. Now, he disappeared and then reappeared minutes later with the Sages that were even now collecting Zuzu and hurrying away with his limp body, looking _stunned_.

(She swore the weakling had _looked away_. She was _ten-and-a-half-ish_ , and she'd watched the whole thing. The least he could have done was watch the _consequences of his actions_ play out. Zuzu _never_ should have been allowed in that war room.)

Azula remained behind. She went where her Father directed her after, following at his side, her smile still in place. She _smiled_ , and listened to his staunch supporters fling praise at him, and her list grew and grew, until she had to start a whole new one. Her father had just made the biggest mistake of his life. 

(He wouldn't know that until _weeks-months-years_ later.)

______

She slipped into Zuko's room the night before Uncle planned on leaving with him. She hated that he was _going_ , that he was being _kicked out_ like some unwanted animal -like all the animals Zuzu had wanted to keep, but Azula _hated_ \- when _Father_ was the only one that didn't want him.

( _Azula_ wanted him. _He was her's!_ She needed him, because people still looked at her weird, and they might not be allowed to be _close_ , but they were still siblings, and this whole thing was _stupid!_ She was willing to express all of this _privately_ , _to herself_ , because if she _didn't_ acknowledge the emotions, they might fester and overwhelm her thought-roads when she least expected it.)

So she sat at his bedside and listened to him breathe. She listened to the stuttering in-out of his lungs and heard his screams underneath it. She looked at his bandaged face and saw his seared flesh. She ran careful fingers over his pale hand and couldn't feel the warmth that usually lived inside him.

(He'd _screamed_ , and it had echoed in her mind, become sewn into the edges. She'd watched him get burned while Father _smiled_ , and she'd learned for the first time what fury might feel like. His screams and burning flesh were frozen in her mind, and fuel for her dreams.)

Her hand clenched over his, and she _smiled_ , because she wasn't sure what other face to make. Zuzu wasn't awake to help her figure it out, and no matter how much she wished it wasn't true, he wouldn't be able to tell her for a while. When he woke up, he'd be gone, and she'd be here. 

(She intended to make the most of this. She was ten-and-a-half, and filled with what was _probably_ fury, and she was a _prodigy_ in _multiple subjects_. She would bid her time, and when she had an opportunity, she would strike at the weaknesses her Father didn't even know he had, because to him they were _strengths_.)

She felt someone's eyes on her and realized Uncle had come in at some point. She couldn't be caught here by _anyone else_ , so she got ready to leave, then realized that Zuzu was going to wake up on a _ship_ , _miles away from her._ She wouldn't ever get to speak to him again. She wouldn't _see_ him unless she left the Captial and went _looking_. They would kill him if he tried coming back without completing Father's stupid _challenge-that-was-more-like-a-joke_.

"You had better not _forget me_ , Dum Dum." she whispered to him quietly, angrily. She didn't let herself look back.


	2. She smiled like a joke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to take a break from finishing off Toph's story, because I'm having trouble with _words._ So I figured, why not write someone that also has trouble with words/feelings? That way, it'll be in-character!
> 
> Chapter Status: 100% Complete
> 
> _______________________________

It had been a _month_ since Zuko was banished. A month since the climate in the Capital started to shift, cold when it should have been warm, Agni's great eye always so far away, no matter how clear the sky was. Azula had spent a month on edge, because she expected any day to wake with her inner fire dimmed and cold. She knew others were experiencing such a thing, even if no one was outright _talking_ about it.

(She feared the day she woke up with her fires dimmed. She wasn't sure what she would do if it happened. She _needed_ the heat. Needed the _warmth_. It reminded her of Zuzu.)

It was after another restless night of sleep that a major change in staff occurred. Father had found that some of the servants were unhappy in the last few weeks, and had been quietly quelling the ranks. It was something you only noticed if you lived or worked _in_ the Palace. Azula had caught on to what was happening during her late-night _sneaking-that-wasn't-really-sneaking-just-strolling-through-shadows._ She'd watched several servants outright fleeing through the secret corridors only they were supposed to use, expressions wild with panic. If any of the _court vipers_ noticed, they were easily appeased by her father's _ready excuses_ -or unwilling to make themselves a _target_ by questioning anything too loudly.

Some of these excuses were downright ridiculous, 'An outbreak in their home provinces. They've all been relieved to tend to their families in the emergency medical camps.' Or mildly threatening, 'Their behavior had become a problem. It isn't anymore.' Azula's personal favorite excuse? 'They took a leave of absence. _I didn't bother asking why._ ' 

(This one was her favorite, because it was _almost_ the most honest.) 

That she woke up, a month after Zuzu had been drug onto a boat and banished, and still had her inner fire was a quiet relief. That was probably why she was standing in one of the more secluded training yards, at parade rest, her face turned towards the almost distant rays. There was a handful of small, puffing fires around her that used to be training dummies. The servants that hadn't yet been purged on the far peripheral of her vision were scurrying around quietly, and she'd thought today had started just fine. 

"Azula." Her father's voice, and increased scurrying in the _opposite direction of him_.

She turned slowly, deliberately, giving a short bow appropriate for her station. When she rose, it was to see him smiling his favorite smile at her, and with a small horde of women a respectful distance behind him, bowing in their direction. Azula could already tell this was some kind of game, so she gave him _her version_ of _his smile_ , and had the satisfaction of seeing the briefest flash of irritation in his eyes.

"Azula. It has come to my attention as of late that with the most recent change in staff, you were left without a primary tutor to oversee your various activities." Azula wound have asked why her Father _cared_ if she had some commoner to act as her court-approved tutor, when the answer sprang at her almost as soon as she had it.

Father was currently struggling to make sure those people of the court that were itching for ways to tear him down had _nothing_ to use as leverage. No one had dared yet, but with the way things were going, someone was _bound_ to dare and ask if their Fire Lord was out of favor with Agni. Ozai wanted to make sure that _everything_ about his court, from Azula to the lowest servant, looked _shiny_. He wanted to have _absolute grounds_ for taking anyone _stupid enough_ to speak up, and burning them alive.

(Ozai lived in a constant state of paranoia, always _angry-concerned_ that someone was going to get enough surface proof of negligence or lack of favor and stage a coup. As strong as her Father was, as _powerfully connected_ , and with as many loyalists he had, Azula knew that he wouldn't survive if even _half_ the court was convinced he didn't belong on the throne. Ozai knew this too.)

"Ah. Yes," Azula said slowly, blinking at the women behind him with new feigned boredom, "that was a terribly dreadful oversight at first. It is clear, _of course_ , that I have managed quite well on my own, have I not?" she carefully, _slowly_ tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, _smiling_ at the women behind her Father.

Ozai laughed, the kind of laughter that made most people jump -and several of the women did. He shifted until they were standing slightly side by side, with him just in front of her. The women wordlessly lined up, seven of them all standing perfectly poised. She could half feel her father's attention on her, so she deliberated the best way to go about starting the selection process. They all looked so neat and perfectly poised, like little dolls all neatly lined up. Azula wanted to burn them.

(A flash of memory at the same time the sunlight caressed the back of her neck, _comforting_ when her mind was suddenly filled with childish laughter. In her minds eye, she perfectly saw her brother, swinging around that stupid little knife Uncle had sent him, his movements a little wild, but _well-practiced_. She wondered if he'd seen his swords yet. It had taken a lot of maneuvering to get them into his things without anyone noticing. She tried _not_ to wonder if he could even see out of _one side of his face_.)

Azula used the small flare of fury with that thought to fuel her next movements, smile perfectly in place when she went through a quick series of Kata, sending fire flinging at the women in front of her. The ones that didn't stumble back and freeze scurried away, one or two of them trying to divert the flames with their own meager bending. 

One of them did neither. 

(Agni's rays shimmered on her neck, _laughing_ at her.)

_She_ stepped forward into the flames and made a short, simple movement. Azula's flames sputtered and began to calm. 

(She felt Father's attention shift with interest and _small-fury_ , and Agni only seemed to _laugh at her harder_.)

"Now your Highness," she said soft and slow, her hand tucked appropriately into her sleeves once again, "it has been many years since I was active in the courts, but I am sure there are rules of _proper engagement_. Those rules do not include setting one's people on fire." 

Azula wanted to ask this woman if she'd ever _actually_ met Ozai before today, because he broke this _apparent rule_ a lot. 

(The portion of her screaming this question was still a child who remembered her Father setting her brother's face on fire.)

Azula did her level best to ignore this portion of her mind and instead _increased her smile_. If she just smiled _mean enough_ , the foolish woman would back down. The guards that shadowed her father were watching attentively, and Father was angry and intrigued, she could tell, and the women behind _this one_ all flinched when Azula smiled harder. But this woman - _this woman!_

_She smiled back._ It was nothing like Father's smile, or Mothers. It wasn't like Uncles' quiet, dangerous smile. It almost could have been like Zuzu's soft, real smile, but there was the smallest edge to it. She smiled like she knew a joke that Azula didn't, like she had a knife hidden in her lips and was sharpening it on everyone's reaction. 

(The weirdest thing was, the smile didn't make Azula feel like she was weird. Like she wasn't normal. The smile made her feel like a kid, like this woman saw her and didn't immediately think she was strange. It looked like safety. Azula wanted to _burn it_.)

"What is your name?" Ozai asked slowly, smiling _his_ smile at the woman, who bowed slow and easy in response, that smile still in place.

"I am Myong Sui Lee." FOrmality dripped off of every word, and father stirred next to her, his brow twisted in thought rather than fury. A second later, the thought cleared and his eyes snapped back to the woman in question.

"Are you by chance _Major General_ Myong Sui Lee, who was responsible for helping to break and _hold_ the southern wall of Ba Sing Se? The woman whose reports _quietly railed_ at the order to retreat?" The tone of her Father's voice was something else entirely, something she'd never heard before. 

The woman in front of her smiled some more, and this time it looked _strained_. 

"That _would_ be me, Fire Lord."

Azula finally risked a glance at Father, and he looked like the Fire Festival had come early.

"I am surprised that you chose now of all times to return to the courts." He cooed, tucking his hands up his sleeves. 

"My family went through much, in the short time between being ordered to retreat and returning home. Personal matters kept me with one of my daughters, on one of the chain islands. Now that she is well off on her own, I am free to continue servicing my country." There was genuine sentiment in those words, and Azula realized with startling irritation that this woman sincerely wanted to serve.

"By acting as my _servant_?" Azula cut in, _smiling_ some more. 

The damn woman _smiled back_. Her response was almost honey-sweet.

"Serving my young Princess in _any_ capacity would be the greatest of honor. What better way to use my years to their most advantageous than by watching over the _future_ of my nation?" Eloquent words, softly spoken, in no way challenge -except that they were, to _Azula_ \- and Father knew Azula was irritated by the woman, if the way he smiled was anything to go by. 

The only people surprised by the Fire Lords declaration that she would be Azula's new Primary tutor and Governess were those that didn't know her Father took the greatest joy in testing those around him. Myong Sui Lee was Azula's newest test, for what exactly, she didn't know _yet_. But she would.

* * *

High Sage Shiza contemplated the dragon runes on the table in front of him, and quickly added another line to his missive. The spirits had chosen an odd time to be chatty, but he wouldn't complain. _Any_ instruction from Agni was welcome instruction, _especially_ when the _fraud of a Fire Lord_ was doing his damndest to alienate their spirit deity. The direction the spirits of divination were now pointing him was _concerning_ , but he had sworn to serve the will of Agni. If this was what he must do to protect his faithful, to serve his deity and his people, he _would_. 

He was careful to replicate his missive only twice, with instructions for how many copies needed to be sent once they reached their destinations. He sent prayers to Agni, that they would find who they were meant to, and was rewarded later when the messenger hawks were braced with a _strong_ spirit wind.

(Others would be surprised to learn that the most helpful spirits Shiza knew were _air spirits_. After all, Fire Lord Sozin had done wrong to the Air deities by trying to decimate their children. It was fortunate that Shiza's own family and a very select few of his country-people had never fogotten that their world was built on _balance_. You couldn't balance the world with _three_ nations.)

* * *

_Governess_ or no, it was still _ridiculously easy_ to sneak out at night. Azula spent the next several dozen or so nights haunting all the places she knew her father's spies congregated and swapped information. This is how she learned that her brother was apparently very much _alive_ , and mostly sighted in both eyes -though some of the reports lead to a lot of speculation in the _spy-room_ about how _well_ he could see out of his left eye. Apparently there was no sign of him bending _or_ training. 

(She was worried about that. Her brother was notoriously _bad_ at self-preservation, so if he wasn't bending or training yet, should he even be _moving around?_ In the _days-weeks_ that followed, there was no sign of a letter from her brother. Azula waited, without meaning to, hoping that maybe something would come. That maybe her information about her brother would start coming _from_ her brother.)

This is the mindset that lead to her newest schedule of 'waking up,' in the early morning and going straight to the most isolated training ground she could find to _burn_ everything in it to the ground. The Governess always managed to find her, smiling that stupid smile and setting up food platters and drinks. Somehow, she always managed to talk Azula into eating something _before_ she went to get dressed for the day. Somehow, all of Azula's attempts to set her on fire for the effort hadn't made her flinch yet.

(Azula hated the way it felt like Agni was laughing at her -she didn't even think he real!- every time the woman calmly brushed the fire away and snuffed it, hardly ever breaking stride.)

Azula couldn't figure out how she was _doing_ that. No one should be able to take over _her_ fire, but a couple of tests had proven that at least it seemed to be something unique to this particular bender. Her former instructor hadn't been able to control her fire yesterday -when she set him ablaze for something he'd said weeks ago- and the guards she'd been lobbing fireballs at hadn't managed to control it either.

(It almost hadn't been all that interesting, lobbing fire at people that couldn't snuff it out. With everyone else, the fire bloomed like red and orange flowers, and grew until they were out of control. With Myong, the drops of fire rarely ever budded before they were smothered. Azula wondered how hot her flames would have to be before Myong couldn't control them anymore. This naturally lead to another set of experiments that had her Father laughing and most adult shuddering away from her. Except Myong. The stupid woman was right there through it all, quietly putting out the fires Azula started.)

* * *

A handful of men died in the middle of the night, near the heart of their Capital. Upon examination, no one could absolutely determine what the cause of death had been. Anyone who touched the bodies immediately discerned that they were _freezing_ , like blocks of ice. There was wild confusion in abundance, and when General Lui Wei recited this information to his Fire Lord, he happened to be asking for clarification.

(Everyone _knew_ there was an explanation for why a handful of their benders might be dead, gone cold from the inside out. Most had collapsed where they stood. Some had been complaining of feeling unwell, then gone to sleep and not woken up. Everyone knew or suspected why it was happening, but no one was panicking because-)

The fool in front of him spouted a heap of nonsense about their great Lord Agni being focused on their war efforts abroad, giving much-needed strength to the men they had on the front lines. General Lui Wei had been a man on the front lines. He knew that when you were desperate, you always felt Agni with you, be it night or day.

(He'd also once been stationed at a colony where their men had no honor, where they broke the most basic and most complicated rules and dictates given to their people by Agni. They had eventually died in a similar manner to the handful of people now dead here, in the _Capital_.)

General Lui Wei had once asked the sages what it took to die like that. They'd told him it took completely betraying Agni. It took falling out of favor with him, or living somewhere where his blessings were redacted. He told none of this to Ozai.

(Ozai could play the part of Fire Lord as much as he wanted. He would never hold Lui Wei's respect, not until he could look at his people and see more than the words 'expendable loss.' Not until the man showed even a shred of true remorse for what he'd done to his own son. Lui Wei had been a father once -for five short years in the colonies. That part of his life was dead now, and he would have given anything to have it back. The _upstart brat_ playing Fire Lord in front of him would never understand this.)

_______

Elsewhere in the Capital, a court advisor was reviewing the deaths of that morning while his wife put her arithmetic skills to good use and crunched the numbers. She must not be making any more headway in her problem, because her lovely face was set in a scowl, and Councilor Li Qiang knew her enough to know she would be attacking the problem until she'd found a workable solution. Outside the window of their waiting room, he could just make out the young Princess, watching one of the Ty girls -possible Ty Lee- spring around on hands and feet, form perfectly balanced. He was puzzling over what held the princesses attention, trying to understand the girls' attention-

(And then it hit him, as the Princesses friend was springing backward, Agni's distant light glittering on the shimmering beads sewn into the other girls soft pink Panung. She wore a Sabai in a matching color, equally as shimmering beads sewn there too, but no outer Sinh, which would have been appropriate for her class.)

"Darling," he said slowly, shuffling his papers aside in thought. His wife made a small sound, indicating she was listening, but not likely to engage, "Do you suppose the Princess would like a similar dress-set? It will be the Fire Festival soon."

He felt more than saw his wife look up, wasn't surprised when her soft hand landed on his and squeezed. Their youngest daughter was grown now, married only in the last year. Neither of them was used to the silence of an empty, childless house. Surely no one would blink if they started sending gifts to the young Princess? Most would assume they were trying to gain favor, and that was alright. Li Qiang didn't like the _hungry-lost_ look in the Princesses' eyes as she twitched and twisted her friends discarded over-dress between her hands.

(He'd seen that expression in his youngest face, while they were looking for negotian clothing. She'd thought the dress she really wanted was too extravagant, but that hadn't stopped her from wanting it. Much like then, he felt the urge to fix that look. His wife seemed to agree, if the quick missive she wrote and then sent out was anything to go by. Nothing had ever made him feel that their Fire Lord was more _foolish_ than watching the Princess force herself to set the material aside and pretend disinterest when her friend came running back to her.)

* * *

It's been seven months since Zuko's banishment. Still seven months without a single word from her brother. Azula had a lot of time between slipping over, under, and around other girls guards to contemplate that _banished_ did not, in fact, mean _forbidden from contact_. She also had enough time, while going through the route steps of the Kata the instructor was walking her and her class through, to think about all the ways she would make her brother _pay_. 

(She hardly ever thought about the class while she was in class. It was all baby stuff she'd been forced to learn as soon as she could. The only reason she had even agreed to stay in the academy was because _Mei_ and _Ty Lee_ were there. They never seemed to mind how her brain worked, and even when she scared them they tried to be nice. It was more than most people in the palace gave her -especially since Zuzu left- and besides. Mei was funny and sharp and Ty Lee was sneaky.)

The girls came back to the palace with her, since both of their mothers would be there later for business. Mei and Ty Lee ended up waiting in one of the outer sitting areas where lunch was to be served while Azula changed. She did so without assistance, because unless she was asked to wear the heavier, longer formal robes, Azula didn't _need_ help getting dressed. Myong came into the room with a bundle of clothing while Azula was adjusting the position of her chang kaben.

(Quietly, and only to herself, she wished she was allowed to wear a Panung and Sabai -it would be much more comfortable than the _excessive_ heavy layers that her father demanded. No one would bat an eye if their Princess wore a Sinh in her daily life. _Ty Lee_ got to wear all kinds of skirts and dresses, and she was relatively high nobility, from a strong _military_ family. Mei was in the opposite boat from Azula. The growly girl wore whatever _dress_ her mother _forced_ her to.)

Azula allowed herself to be briefly irritated by this train of thought, she paused in lacing up her undertunic to take a few deep breaths ... and some of the take-home instructions for a class project went up in flames. Myong paused where she was bustling around the room, picking things up and putting them away. 

(Sometimes, the woman acted more like a _nanny_ than a _governess_. Azula was beginning to think she had her job confused with something else, except her eyes were too sharp for that.)

"Did you not like your _letter_ , Princess?" Myong asked softly, and Azula froze in her renewed lacing, then had enough fore-thought to pretend disinterest as she picked up her outer Suea Pat and the sash that would go over it.

A small lick of fury curled around her insides, and she wanted to scream that there were no letters. There wouldn't ever be any letters, because Zuko was a _Dum Dum_. The biggest, worst **_Dum Dum_** in history.

"What makes you think I've received a letter?" She asked-not-growled, thank you very much. 

Myong smiled that damn smile, and took over helping Azula tie her sash so effectively, she hadn't realized that the woman was helping until it was too damn late. When she would have snapped out that she wasn't a child and didn't need help, Myong presented the lighter, _armor-but-really-heavy-cloth_ mantle with dark embroidery Azula had set aside.

"I saw a letter addressed to you on the Fire Lords desk, Highness." Myong answered, helping Azula adjust the stupid piece of heavy fabric. The Princess was trying not to show how much this news bothered her. "But perhaps I was mistaken." Myong finished slowly, heading to the door and opening it for Azula. For a second, just a second, she wanted to run straight to her Fathers' office. She wanted to forget being _sneaky_. 

(But she had need of the shadows. They were the closest she could get to obscurity -and she saw Zuko in every single one of them. It was the closest she could get to her brother now. She needed to be _sure_ they were from her brother, which meant she needed to wait until her father would _definitely_ be out of his office. She knew he wouldn't throw the letters out -not just yet. He'd want to hold onto them, until he was sure they couldn't be useful. Azula started making plans.)

* * *

Great Aunts Li and Lo were visiting again, and Azula _hated_ listening to them. They went on and on about such _weird_ things. She'd taken to training in a more overgrown garden that no one ever visited, one that had been taken off the gardeners' itinerary, because it was so deep on the palace grounds and no one lived anywhere near it now. Myong somehow followed her, set up a little table with snacks and drinks on it, and a small pile of extra schoolwork she'd been ignoring because it was _boring_. 

(She would still do it, in a little bit, because Father expected her to do it and excel. Since she was still playing his game, she had no choice but to do the baby homework, and pretend like she was learning anything.)

She sat cross-legged in the sunlight now, face turned up to Agni. A by-now familiar feeling of quiet amusement fluttered over her skin, and she scowled at the sky on principle. She did _not_ believe in Agni. She would need solid _proof_ , thank you. Feelings under the sunlight weren't solid proof -neither were people mysteriously dying because their _inner fires_ went out.

(She wasn't supposed to know _that_ had happened, but she did. She had very little to do but plot and plan, and you couldn't do things like that until you had information.)

Besides, Father had been unusually mad that day. He'd been mad every day since, actually. It was getting to the point she wasn't sure she could predict him anymore, and that was concerning. He needed to be able to predict him to win the game. If she didn't win the game, it would never be safe for Zuzu to come home, and she wanted him to come home. She went through the most recent set of Kata she'd mastered dry, even though she could have set the entire royal grounds on fire if she wanted with how overgrown it was. 

"Your Highness," Myong called, smiling at her when she turned sharply, one foot held perfectly still in a forward jab, "please come eat something before you start practicing in earnest. You didn't eat your morning meal." Myong made a small motion to the plates set out, and Azula growled at her from where she balanced. 

Myong smiled anew and dipped her chin the slightest bit, and Azula only finally acquiesced because her legs were getting tired. _Not_ because her stomach was grumbling. It was hardly her fault she hadn't felt like eating more than a few bites. Great aunts Li and Lo had been distracting with their stories.

(And Father had been irritable, and snappish. She hadn't wanted to take her eyes off him, because something in the back of her mind told her to be wary of him at that moment. Given that Azula had much better self-preservation than Zuko, she was naturally and justifiably distracted during morning meal.)

"How do you always know where I'm going?" Azula snipped as she sat down on a soft, wide cushion. Myong smiled above her as she placed some of Azula's favorite breakfast foods on the plate.

"My first week here, I scouted out the area. You are the type of child that actively seeks out solitude when you're irritated with people," amusement in these words, her soft-bronze eyes flickering up to Azula briefly, "so I went looking for places that would be good for a young, strong bender to practice in private. After that, it was figuring out which ones you were likely to pick on any given day, and _how_ you rotated through them." the older woman shrugged, settling back and pulling up what looked like an _embroidery_ project. 

(Azula _hated_ embroidery. They always made her practice the same thing over and over again, when she'd rather just emborder whatever she wanted, like Zuzu used to. He used to emborder fat, abstract dragons into her clothing when she wasn't looking. Father embroidered the fire-nation insignia during long meetings, used the repetitive motion to think.) 

"You know," she said slowly, plucking up a ripe straw-cherry berry, "You act a lot more like a _nanny_ than a _governess_."

Myong didn't take offense, her smile _stupid-playful-joking_ but directed at the embroidery in her lap.

"Being a _governess_ is just a fancier way of saying _nanny_. My mother was a very good nanny, when I was a child," she added almost absently, doing a complicated looking knot so effortlessly, Azula was briefly distracted. "but then, my mother _and_ grandmother both dedicated their lives to protecting children, so of course they were very good at it."

Azula picked at the sweet-chili mango-star slices on her plate, because that hadn't been the reaction she was going for.

"And yet, you ended up a military grunt." She cooed, watching the older woman's face carefully. 

The damn smile never even wavered. She tried for hours to crack it and nothing. 

(Azula began cursing this woman's name. It was nothing less than her bid to see if the woman was actually a spirit.)

* * *

It took weeks and weeks for Azula to find an opportunity to sneak into Father's office. It was as easy as slipping into the shadows and then up, into the spaces above the ceiling most adults couldn't fit. Azula would have them filled in when she was Fire Lord -because there were _small_ adults, and just being small didn't make you any less dangerous. When she dropped into the office, she was actively surprised about the amount of information she was able to pick up from his loose papers, some of it very well written, some of wildly scrawled.

She found her letters, buried so deep, it might take him ages to figure out they weren't there. To be one the safe side, she swiped a couple of other things that seemed random and almost scattered, but she was interrupted by the soft footfalls in the hall. Disappearing back in the shadows and up to the ceiling was easy. Sitting still and quiet while her Father ordered Zhao to kill Iroh and Zuko, and if possible make it look like the actions of the Earth Kingdom. 

(Azula had very good eyesight. She also had very good hearing -she'd needed to develop these things to survive. Listening to her Father quietly rail about her brother was almost reliving. If Zuko was making Father this angry, he was alive, and probably alright. On the other hand, she was infuriated, because if Zuko was making Father this angry, why had he only ever sent two letters?)

Father left as quickly as he'd come, and Azula contemplated why he would have left tonight meeting -which was important in it's own right, it was about the provisions for their soldier overseas- just to write a reply as quickly as possible. There must be some other reason he felt he needed Zuko out of the way. Azula would have to investigate further but ...

Father was actively trying to kill her Brother and Uncle now. Sure, she could sneak around and spy on people at court, even figure out what he was planning, but ... As much as she hated to admit it, she was just a child. A prodigy, sure, but still a _child_. She needed help. She needed ...

Azula smiled, for probably the first real-time in a long time. Naturally, now that she had the idea, everything was falling into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am both aware and sorry if I got some of the clothing items Azula briefly mentions here wrong. There is no definitive style choice in some of the nation's clothing, and honestly, I spent twenty minutes trying to figure out what they were basing Fire nation fashion off of. So I went with a couple of options that looked kind of familiar.   
> (I'm seeing a lot of mixed opinions everywhere I dive, mostly a mixture of Thai and Japanese?)  
> While I love that in-canon Avatar takes place on an alternate planet, I hate not having a real way to determine what clothing items I'm referencing for sure?
> 
> Also! If the embroidery thing seems familiar, it's because whatthedubbs originally headcanoned it in her outline _Please Stop Making Boomerang Jokes_. It's a pretty solid read, even if it's only in the outlined phase r/n, I highly recommend.


	3. The shadows laughed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty then, let's get this party started! The portions I post right now are likely to change, depending on how they read when I get home and have the ability to put it and Spirits side by side.  
> Update :  
> Managed to write a good chunk yesterday. And then. And then. I forgot to make a backup and tried to update it before bed. And I lost everything when the wifi at home gave out for inexplicable reasons. So that was nice.
> 
> Chapter Status: 100% COMPLETE

Myong was setting up a little table with food when Azula slipped into the abandoned training yard. This particular training yard was a short jaunt from the abandoned gardens. Azula stopped a few feet away from the Governess and glared, because _she_ hadn't even been sure she was going to train this morning. Nevermind _where_ she would train.

(The deciding factor was listening to her Father snip at Aunts Li and Lo about whether or not they were qualified to teach Azula some advanced techniques. Azula didn't really care if they were qualified, because she could think of nothing worse than being stuck with them for hours. She was very careful to make sure this didn't show.)

Myong tipped her head slowly at Azula, almost apologetic, except Azula wasn't sure what she'd be apologizing for.

"I happened to see how ... Disconcerted you seemed earlier, when I helped to refill some of the breakfast dishes." She made a wide motion to the food on the table, her voice much softer with her next words, "I also happened to note you weren't eating very much. Please, Princess, eat something sweet before you get to work. The food will help you focus."

Azula wanted to argue that she was perfectly capable of focusing on an empty stomach -she'd done so plenty _before_ Myong came- but she relented. Ceding to this woman now was simple strategy. Her plan _depended_ on it -so she huffed as she sat down and let the woman make her a dish. It took a moment for her to organize her words, evaluate what the possible outcome of each phrase would be, before she glanced in Myong's direction and set her plan into motion.

"You were a soldier." She made it a statement of fact, let the edges bleed into curiosity just the tiniest bit. Myong looked up from whatever she was embroidering, her generally calm eyes alight with interest.

"Yes, Princess. For many years, even before I was married." A confirmation, but not the information Azula needed to lead the conversation. She tried again.

"Why did you join?" She'd heard this question asked and answered enough times in her life, what with military men and women wandering the palace grounds almost as much as the courtiers.

Myong paused, her expression deeply contemplative ...and then her eyes flickered from Azula to the plate of spiced fruits and soft flatbreads she'd been ignoring. Azula took the subtle cue -with as much irritation as possible- and delicately nibbled at a chili-mango.

"My father served our nation honorably, and I was young and impulsive enough to prefer his work over my mother's." She chuckled here, her eyes flickering over Azula's plate while the princess picked at the fruits on top of it. "I wasn't ready to tend to other people's children then. I would have rather protected them from the wild dangers on the front lines." A small smile, amused and secretive. "I found my passion there, and it fueled me for a long time."

Azula wanted to jump on the information given, rifle through it and pick it apart word by word, but her plan requires at least some kind of 'sincerity,' on her part, so she refused to think too deeply about Myong's words.

"Your passion is protecting your nation?" She let it hang as a slightly bored question. 

Myong smiled that smile Azula hated.

"My passion is preserving the _future of our nation_. I said as much when the Fire Lord hired me. From now until my time is up, I will proudly do what I can to bring you honor and attend to your path, that there are as few bumps as possible." The woman bowed at that, _not-quite-admitting_ to outright treason but _definitely-declaring-her-alliance_. 

Azula did let herself think about those words, rolling them around her mind carefully as she very obviously chewed the spice-berry Mochi that Myong had snuck into the dishes. Myong's words were dangerously close to treason in the minds of the most devout. One was supposed to show honor and passion for one's nation by being loyal to the Fire Lord, after all. 

(Being loyal to a royal child was only supposed to be secondary. Azula had heard a lot of flubbery in her life and Myong's declaration was the least _flubbed_ she'd ever heard. Myong hadn't ever said she was loyal to the Fire Lord. She'd never indicated that she desired to serve the present Heart of the Fire Nation.)

The words were either a clever little trap or a weakness that Azula could use, and she couldn't figure out which it was. They had been so freely given, Azula almost swore she was speaking to her Dum Dum brother. Myong was almost just as bad at politics as the Former Prince if the words _weren't_ a trap. She needed more information before she proceeded, more words to base her own _special treason_ off of. 

(Because any action taken that went directly against the Fire Lord's orders was _treason_ , and Azua had found out yesterday that anyone who willfully helped the Prince without 'making him work for it,' was to be punished appropriately. Azula planned on doing a lot more than merely helping her Brother. This made her treason extremely special and extremely dangerous.)

* * *

It took weeks before any of Shiza's men got back to him. Days more until his most secretive of allies sent a list of conditions and pages of approvals and agreements to be signed. Shiza did as he'd been directed with those papers and then turned his mind and eyes back on the Capital, where the most alarming of rumors was flying about.

Apparently, the Fire Lord had become so enraged at one of his generals during a War Room session, he'd outrightly set the man's plans (and consequently, his beard) on fire. Shiza contemplated what kind of mental state a man like Ozai would have to be in to make such a reckless move, and the answer wasn't good.

(Even now, Shiza understood the man was back to his usual temperament and trying to do damage control. The acting Fire Lord likely wasn't _truly_ upset by his own actions, but by the inexplicable rash way he'd dolled out a punishment he'd likely only been entertaining.)

Shiza decided to speed up some of the plans in place. Just in case.

...........

Ozai sat, still and quiet, breathing the way he'd been trained years before. He pulled air in and released it slowly through his nose, and willed the candles in front of him to flicker with the motion. To swell and shrink with each inhale and exhale. He willed the taste of ash to appear on his tongue, and coat his throat. 

There was nothing. His inner fire quivered and flickered, a candle close to burning out of existence. He spent more time outside these days, trying to soak up as much heat as possible from Agni's rays. 

(It never felt the same, the sunlight. He had been a much milder believer in Agni months before -sending up the occasional prayer, following all the basic rituals- but these days, his devotion was _manic_. He visited the priests every day, trying to get answers about why he, the _Fire Lord_ , was having trouble. He was the heart of the nation, _the will of Agni given human form!_ )

He tried not to let the exhaustion of chilled bones show, was trying desperately to maintain the appearance of impassive and powerful Fire Lord when he felt like a strong wind would dim his own inner fire permanently. The most aggravating part of this chill-cloud over his nation wasn't the wild speculation he saw in others when they looked at him. It was Azula.

The girl seemed unbothered by the phenomenon he and everyone else suffered from. Her flames were as vibrant as they'd always been, as strong as he'd come to expect from the only child he'd acknowledge-

_Somewhere on the sea, his **other child** , the one that had been l **ucky to be born** , was fighting a gang of pirates for provisions and **winning**. The spirits laughed at the man for this fact._

(Privately, Ozai wondered if his daughters' peculiar reaction - _or lack thereof_ \- was due to her odd nature. Maybe having a naturally _broken view of the world_ made one less likely to fall prey to the whiles of spirits.)

* * *

It was amazing the things you could learn from someone simply by shadowing their every step. The Princess had taken to following Myong after their discussion about _passion_ and _loyalty_. She was always careful to follow only in situations where _Azula_ would be busy, where the princess didn't need direct supervision. 

(She skipped multiple lessons to achieve this. It wasn't unusual for her to forego lessons as often as she had been -in fact, it had become standard to do so right before she asked her Father to _replace_ her instructors for one reason or another. She chose to let the instructors in question stew over this fact rather than come up with a pretty lie. It was a small bit of _fun_ like that.)

What Azula was learning was that Myong was _interesting_. She never stayed in one place too long - she carried small bits of food around, seemed to prefer snacking over real meals. She spent a lot of time in the palace study, appeared to be reading her way through the _whole archives_. When she wasn't in the study, she wandered the palace, usually with some package she'd nabbed up from a passing servant, or a serving tray of tea and sweets. She listened and watched everything, and Azula was _half convinced_ she was better apprised of the going-ons than even her _Father's_ spies.

(Especially since some of the people she lead on wild conversations _were_ Ozai's spies. Azula had been concerned at first that those spies would find the woman suspicious, but she usually ended any of these too-telling conversations with blithe comments that made her seem _far stupider_ than she was.)

This all, in summary, pointed to the woman having some _hidden agenda_ some reason to be poking around and hoarding information ... Except then she realized that Myong mentioned all _pertinent_ information she learned at _meals_ or _during training_ , but it was always off-handed and subtle. She never gave it directly, just sprinkled the information softly and let Azula make her own connections.

(This didn't make any sense to Azula. Myong _had_ information, but she was just ... _Giving_ _it away_. Why? What was the _point?_ )

The only way to find out was by letting Myong _know_ Azula was following her. The princess struggled with this decision for a few hours, trying to travel down every thought-road of possibility. There were dozens of thinsg that could go wrong. There were a dozen more that could go right. 

(Azula needed to take the risk, because Father's plans for Zuzu were sitting in the nack of her mind, a stain she couldn't wash out. She'd taken to sneaking into his private study as often as she could, because she needed information to bargain with, and that meant knowing where to find it all. Father would eventually notice, and she was running out of _time_. She needed help.)

In the end, it was the most logical decision to take the risk and let Myong know Azula was following her around. If Myong was the one to bring it up, Azula could ask the real questions she needed answered. A few strategic slip-ups the next time the woman left on _errands_ while Azula was supposed to be busy did the trick.

Only-

Only it _didn't_. Myong _never_ mentioned them. She never alluded that she _knew_ Azula knew what she did on her own, the questions she was asking, the people she was talking to. The places she went where she wasn't supposed to be any more than Azula was. She _pretended_ Azula had never made the mistake as well as the Fire Lord pretended he _cared_ about other people.

(It might possibly be time to take a page from Zuzu's book. Directly asking for help with treason definitely seemed like something Zuzu might do if he felt enough pressure to, and Azula was running out of options. She couldn't keep running around the woman in circles.)

The next time Azula and Myong were alone in an abandoned training yard, the princess spent a pain-staking amount of time making sure there weren't any listening ears -

(And even more time pretending that she _couldn't_ feel Agni's light laughing against her skin.)

She marched straight up to the woman and growled at her. 

"Are you a spy?" Straight to the point, probably exactly the way Zuko would have. Maybe. He might not have growled, but she'd never know because he wasn't _here_.

Myong smiled at her and the secret joke was back, sharpening itself against the woman's lips.

"I am not a spy, Highness," the older woman said softly, voice low, "I am your backup." This brought Azula a measure of surprise, and she felt her face screw up in confusion before she could stop it. It was a struggle to pull her expression back under control. 

"Explain." she sneered, because sneering was safe, but the woman didn't flinch, only _smiled more._

"Your Uncle was bothered by the idea of leaving you alone. He knew I would be returning to the Capital, but not when," the woman placed her embroidery aside slowly, then poured some tea, first for Azula, and then for herself. Azula sat only when Myong indicated that she wouldn't continue unless she did. "since he and I share _mutual friends_ , he managed to get a message to me. I am here for you, your Highness. Whatever you need, I am here to help you with it in anyway."

Azula tried not to let those words sit too heavy on her mind. 

"You're here under orders from my _uncle_." She sneered again, and Myong surprised her by shaking her head slowly. 

"All the _General_ did was make a request. I answer to no one but myself for where I am today, Princess." Soft words, her expression one she knew - _sincerity_. Zuko used that face a lot when he was telling her the truth. "I am the one that chose what capacity to involve myself in your affairs."

There was a silence, one broken only by the soft click of Myong's teacup as she set it down, by Azula's quiet-but-too-sharp breath.

" _Why?_ " Azula finally managed, trying and _failing_ to peg down the feeling rolling around her gut.

Myong watched her for a long time, considering. 

"At first, I was going to take a lower position in the staff. Easier to blend in that way. But then I happened to see you training by yourself during one of the interview days. I know you don't believe in Agni," how the woman knew that, Azula wasn't sure, because no one but Zuzu knew she didn't, "but I felt as if his hand lead me to you. I saw you and I knew I would be witness to great things if I helped you through life. I meant what I told you before Princess."

Here she shifted back and bowed low, vulnerable and trusting when she'd admitted to her own kinds of treason. With anyone else, Azula would have started a fire to see how they burned, simply because they were too trusting. She didn't do that here. She watched and tried to understand, and ultimately decided that either way, this worked out.

"I am loyal to you, your Highness."

Azula had needed an adult ally she could trust. Here was one for her on a _golden platter_. 

* * *

Azula snuck in again to her father's office. It was different this time, because father was angrier than he'd been yet, and recently, Azula avoided being in the room with him if she could help it. He was like a live fire, burning and hungry and ready to char anything that got too close. The only good thing about it was that he couldn't bend, not really. He made a good show of it, of course, but Azula could tell the fires that burned in the throne room weren't his.

She'd watched him train recently too -not that he'd known she was there- and he hadn't used flames once, no matter how hard he tried. He could use heat though. Just standing near him you could feel the _fury_ radiating off of him. Myong had warned her about getting the Fire Lord upset. She'd given Azula a whole list of things she'd noticed that Azula hadn't, and now Azula couldn't stop noticing them.

(There was a benefit to having someone around that understood emotions and didn't mind explaining them to you. The woman wasn't as good at it as Zuzu was, but it was more than other people could do for her, and she needed the subtle clues given from accurately reading emotions.) 

She noticed the way his lips twisted flat and then down right before he started snarling at people -which meant he was frustrated- and the way his eyes went all dark right before he smiled his smile. She noticed small things she didn't realize her Father did, and now, carefully slinking through shadows after having successfully nabbed the documents Myong wanted, Azula wondered if Zuzu had ever seen the things Myong did.

(Maybe he had. Maybe that was the real reason he had always been so desperate to prove that he was worthy of Father's 'love.' Maybe all these little things were the reason Zuzu had never quiet beaten that fear he had of Father.) 

Azula made it back to her room and hid the incriminating documents then her sneaking clothes, just as there was a commotion in the hall. Azula waited all of a minute for the noise to die down, but it never did, so she quickly messed up her hair and slipped out of bed. In the hall, she found several of the guards struggling with a man, his eyes wild and angry. 

"I will see the Fire Lord!" He shouted, swinging big fists at men in armor -some of whom hadn't been at peak health since the nation went cold- and he was winning. 

Azula slipped a little further into the hall and watched while more guards came as the originals were knocked down. She ignored all attempts to usher her back into her rooms, because this felt important. It felt like something they would try to _hide_ from her later. At some point, the man saw her and his eyes went all wrong. 

"You. You! The Fire Lord's ways took my child," Dark words, and Azula felt like she knew where this was going. There had been a recent string of deaths, if her Father's spies were to be believed, " _I'll take his!_ " 

Azula sunk all the things she'd been thinking and feeling, allowing herself to simply be. Myong had been teaching her some tricks over the last few weeks, ways to make your fire stretch farther and burn brighter. Phase one of their plan included showing everyone how unbothered their Princess was by the chill in the nation. She could think of no better situation than this. 

The man batted away several guards -and he must have been one himself, with the way he moved- and slipped into a familiar stance right before he sent a burning plume of fire at her. She heard a shuffled commotion behind her, and _moved_. A firm slide of her feet and the fire raging towards her dimmed and fell away, split by Azula's own will -

This fire wasn't very strong. He must have used the last of his own strength for this.

She spun around and dipped through a series of steps to a well-known Kata. Her fire came out _blue_ , and even if it didn't touch him, the man still scrambled back in shock while Azula stood, exactly where she'd landed in the last movement of the Kata. Behind her, there was silence, and then the Fire Lord started laughing. 

By the next evening, the Capital was abuzz with the news that their Princess used Cold Fire. No one knew what to make of the fact that Azula was at her strongest when the rest of them were weak, and they spent so much attention on her, no one noticed when several things went missing from the royal archives. Everything was going according to plan. 

* * *

It was Zuko's birthday. Azula glared at the present she'd gotten for no logical reason and made sure to shove it extra hard into one of the many chests in her room. She spent the entire day in a bad mood, avoiding as many people as she could. She didn't miss that her Father seemed to be in a particularly excellent mood. This only made her angrier, especially given what the man had _done_.

(Not eleven months before. No. Azula was thinking about what he'd done most recently.)

Mei was gone -The Fire Lord had gifted the other girls' political father with a small colony, to see how the man did while in charge of something. Ty Lee had been told she needed to be _less friendly_ with Azula and more subservient, since she would likely act as a _guard_ or _soldier_ for the Princess when they were both older.

Azula responded differently to both of these things. With Mei, she pretended not to be upset -because she wasn't, it was good that Mei was getting out of the Capital!- and helped the gloomy girl come up with different ways to subtly complain on the trip overseas. It didn't matter that each complaint made her stomach twist in new ways, especially given what it _meant_. With Ty Lee she was ... _Less inclined to inactivity_.

(Mei was already _gone_ by then. Azula would have no one if they took Ty Lee away from her too.)

She lit the courier's message on fire and asked to speak to Ty Lee _anyway_. The girl and her _father_ appeared within the hour, and Ozai insisted on sitting in with them- and then it became clear why Ty Lee had sent such a _ridiculous message_. Her father wasn't even _trying_ to be subtle. Ozai was putting pressure on Ty Lee's family to act within their station. Ty Lee looked strained and pale throughout the whole thing, which was better than the _sneaky-dexterous_ girls _sweating father_.

(Azula didn't do as much fuming as she wanted, because if she indicated _care_ , Ozai would use that against her. Instead, she told the other girl that she much preferred if people said farewells and made promises to her _face_. Much more dignified like that. Ty Lee looked briefly crushed at Azula's otherwise lack of response, then nodded through it with a wibbling chin and couldn't leave fast enough. It was safer this way.)

Azula didn't know what plans Ozai was setting in place, because she couldn't find whatever he'd written for them. Of course, she'd had to be careful since the Blue Fire incident, because she had a lot more attention on her now. The shadows mocked her when she passed them, laughing at her inability to slip into them without a dozen eyes watching. \

(She wished this laughter sounded a little more like Zuzu's quiet, enticing laughter and not her _Father's_ idea of laughter.)

Later that week, she _'accidentally'_ set a training room on fire and didn't try very hard to put it out. People scrambled around her, trying to douse the flames in ways that didn't involve bending, but there was a reason _blue fire_ was considered the hottest. It only bent to the will of someone equally as strong as it, and there was no one in the Capital that could equal Azula in that moment. Myong stood and watched the flames with her, a smile in place.

* * *

"Have you heard, Princess?" Myong asked, and there was an urgency in her voice that Azula had come to recognize. Azula looked up from the scroll she was reading -while ditching another unimportant lesson- and watched the woman back. 

"The Avatar is _alive,_ " Myong whispered, and Azula felt the scroll roll from her grip.

"How trustworthy is this information?" A soft question when Azula wanted to beg for it to be true. 

(Not that she would know who to beg. She didn't believe in _spirits_ after all, and she wasn't about to start now just because someone thought they saw the Avatar. Probably _not even_ if the Avatar was real.)

"I happened on one of the Fire Lords' least favorite spies in quiet a bit of a hurry. He was so shaken after having peeked at the missive from Commander Zhao just started blabbing about it _right in the halls._ " Myong responded, frowning at nothing, "by this time tomorrow, everyone whose _anyone_ will know that the Avatar is alive, and that one of the fleet Commander's is running around after him."

Azula let herself think about that. About everything that could go wrong or right with the Avatar -potentially- being alive. Her brother needed the Avatara to return home with honor. Father didn't want Zuzu to return home at all. If Zuzu was serious about coming home, he would hear a rumor about the Avatar being alive and he would go after him right away. It was what Zuko did -throw himself at a problem until it was solved or he broke.

"Any news on my brother?" She finally asked, scowling at the older woman. 

Myong responded in the same way she had the last few times Azula had asked. She shook her head slowly, hesitantly, and Azula cursed. Zuko was in the winds, possibly trying to solve his banishment on his own. Or _worse_ , he'd decided he liked being banished and ran away, leaving Azula alone forever because he'd _forgotten_ about her. She didn't like either idea. 

"You said you have mutual friends with Uncle." short words, and Azula noticed the way Myong smiled in brief amusement. "Can you get a message to them?"

Myong tilted her head again, and something flickered in her eyes. She was seeing something on Azula's face, but the Princess had no idea what _kind_ of expression she was making. Only that she was _making one_ , and that she'd never so quickly come to a decision in her life. 

"What kind of message, Princess?" Gentle words. This woman was always so gentle, and Azula wasn't sure if what she felt about that was hatred or not. 

(When she finally tracked down her brother, he was going to have to help her figure out _so many feelings_.)

"Tell them that I'm running away. That should grab their attention." She shrugged, standing swiftly as she pulled out a blank scroll and a fresh inkwell. She had to reorganize some of their plans. Staging a civil war was hard to with a people so devout to one way of thinking. So she needed to change the way some of them thought. It shouldn't be too hard -Azula already had a _list_ of people that didn't support Ozai. All she needed to do was pen the exact same letter to each and every one of them and _they_ would pull all the strings for her.

(Fire Lord Ozai really had no idea what he'd started when he'd sent her brother away. He had no idea what Azula intended to finish for everything that had followed after. There were few things she hated in life more than _having her things misplaced._ )

* * *

It had taken a _lot_ more political maneuvering than Azula had expected to put all the pieces into place. Myong was extremely helpful in this, because she knew court politics _startingly_ better than Azula did. When asked, she'd smiled a sad smile and announced that her first husband had been _unfortunately involved_ in the courts, despite his military rank. It had eventually been the reason for their Agni-blessed annulment.

Regardless, everything that needed to be in place was, and Azula had learned a lot in the interim. Not just about politics, but about her Uncle and Myong, and their _mutual friends_. If the whole thing weren't entirely necessary for the eventual peace of the Fire Nation, Azula would lecture Myong about the _importance_ of terminology. 

A secret organization based off of _tea_ and _Pai Sho_ was not a group of _'mutual friends.'_ It was a _potential security hazard_ that Azula would have rather been aware of sooner. She had given her word -whatever _that_ was supposed to be _worth_ \- about not talking about it, so she _wouldn't_ -

(Not because she wanted to follow that particular rule, but because she saw no reason to talk about this particular subject. Right now, the organization was being _tremendously_ helpful in organizing a very natural looking civil war, which Azula needed to eventually happen, because Ozai could _not_ be allowed to stay on the throne. He'd become so erratic lately, he'd been outright crowing about how he'd soon have the Avatar in chains and a _world on fire_. None of it had made any sense.)

Instead, she focused on being a _spirit-shadow_ the whole day, slipping into Ozai's private rooms when she knew he'd be in his office. It took a few tries, but she eventually found what she needed, and took everything that might be relevant. She knew from the chatter in the palace that he'd be going to the war room right after. 

(It took a great amount of will power to ignore the feeling between her shoulder blades. A warm heaviness that she'd almost call _encouraging_ , if one could attribute such things to light. She'd had a fuzzy dream the night before of a great, golden dragon-man-mesh of a creature with the most _intriguing_ neck. It had sat next to her quietly, looking over all her plans. He'd seemed _sad_ that it had come to this, but he'd agreed -a Fire Nation that was united was too great a threat. Looking at his empty right eye had made Azula think of Zuko, and the next thing she'd known, it was dawn and she was awake.)

(Azula _did not_ believe in spirits. But if she did? They would _all_ look as strange as that golden dragon-man-mesh. Zuzu would have hated the way it had twisted and wound around itself.)

Now, she stood on the deck of a ship, swathed in a heavy cloak, watching the distant fires of the palace and trying to get used to the way the ship moved beneath her. She thought she should have felt ... something while she watched her home get smaller and smaller. She didn't. Now that she was away from the palace and hopefully on her way to find Zuzu, she felt _numb_.

She felt like she used to all the time. There was no anger to fuel her now unless she thought about Father. She didn't want to think about Father -it wouldn't do her any good out here, on the ocean. To her knowledge, no one had ever had much luck throwing a fireball across a sea and hitting a target. Azula would be tempted to try, if it weren't for the feeling of being watched.

(There was nothing watching her. It was just water. If she kept repeating this maybe the feeling would go away. Eventually, she let Myong lead her to a small table where food had been set up and Azula _didn't-stumble_ thank you. She could already tell she was going to hate this part of the journey.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. Took longer than I wanted it to, but I had to go through and find the right pace to match Spirits, and keep it consistent. For my own peace of mind, I wanted to get Azula out of the Fire Nation by the end of this chapter.


End file.
